


Right Here

by Star55



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, Girl Direction, Lesbian Sex, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-09 21:49:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17413364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star55/pseuds/Star55
Summary: Harry is a useless lesbian. She watches the girl's dance team and is very, very gay.





	Right Here

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by [this youtube video](https://youtu.be/GOFnBEhIFnw) and [this tumblr post](http://star55.tumblr.com/post/181626400181) ♥
> 
> Massive thank yous to Leah and Jada for the cheerleading and their general awesomeness, and to Emma for the beta read. I couldn't have done this without you phenomenal women. ♥

Harry isn’t sure what all of the commotion is, but she follows the herd of people into the dance studio anyway. It’s full – practically bursting at the seams with people packed in. There’s a massive open space in the centre, probably where there’s going to be dancing, her mind supplies, but every other inch of the room is _filled_ with people.

She spots a familiar blonde head of hair and makes her way through the packed crowd.

“’Scuse me,” she mumbles as she inevitably bumps into people. 

“Niall!” she exclaims upon getting closer. “What’s going on?”

Niall beams at Harry. “Dance off,” she says. “Between the lesbians and the gay guys. I’m rooting for the lesbians. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Harry echoes. 

Harry has been attending this university for the last year and a half – how did she not know that there was a dance studio? And that people apparently frequented it enough for there to be a dance off? Between the lesbians and the gay guys, nonetheless. This is _right_ up her alley. She really needs to start paying attention to things.

“How was your lecture?” Niall asks while they wait. 

“It was good,” Harry replies. “I thought I would’ve seen my future wife after, but she’s probably around somewhere. Ooh, Niall, what if she’s _in here_ somewhere?”

Niall snorts and shakes her head. 

Harry’s future wife doesn’t know she exists. It’s an unfortunate set of circumstances, of course, as Harry is _certain_ that this woman is her soul mate. Sure they haven’t ever exchanged more than a brief nod in passing, let alone spoken any words to each other, but Harry _knows_ these things. It’s written in the stars or something.

The first time Harry saw _her_ she almost fainted on the spot. She had been sitting with Zayn and Niall, who were, as usual, busy snogging each other rather than paying attention to Harry (and didn’t they get enough of that home? They _did_ live together, after all, and they had their own space to snog and shag as much as they wanted to. When they were with Harry, all she wanted was for them to pay attention to her. She doesn’t ask for much). 

But then _she_ walked passed and Harry’s pretty sure she stopped breathing. She couldn’t even get enough air into her lungs to get Niall and Zayn’s attention. Instead, she just had to watch as the most beautiful girl in the existence of _ever_ walked passed her, laughing with her friends, and looking every single part of every single one of Harry’s wet dreams come to life.

And that’s not even the start. Once Harry started noticing her, she noticed her _everywhere_. She noticed her at the café near the university where Harry liked to get herself a coffee when she was feeling particularly low on energy. She was always surrounded by people, though, which made it a little harder for Harry to a) sit and admire her, and b) to get the courage up to talk to her. So she’s mostly pined from afar. Okay, she has solely pined from afar. But she’s working up the courage to talk to her. When there’s less people around.

And she wouldn’t be able to spot her in this crowd even if she _tried_. The perks of being tall is that Harry can see clearly over the top of most people. And she has a pretty good spot, thanks to finding Niall when she did. But even that is asking for too much. She can’t make out _anyone_ in this crowd it’s that dense. 

“Have I missed it?” Zayn asks, suddenly appearing behind them. 

“Nope, it’s going to start any minute now,” Niall says eagerly. “The guys are going first. Lou said that they’re saving the best for last.”

“Of course she did,” Zayn says with a fond eye roll. Harry has no idea who she’s talking about, but she nods along like she does.

Harry’s gaze roams across the crowd. She thinks she spots a few people from one of her lectures, but she can’t be certain. Everyone is a picture of excitement in here, and Harry has to admit – it’s a little catching. She finds herself getting excited for this dance off, even though she has no idea what’s going on.

Music starts, filling the room with the familiar tune that is Britney Spears’ … _Baby One More Time_. Harry grins. She _loves_ Britney Spears. Britney is Harry’s lucky artist. 

Three men walk out into the dance floor and pose for a second before they start dancing.

And _oh!_ They’re wearing high heels.

“Pft, big deal,” Zayn mumbles like she’s read Harry’s mind. “Some of us wear heels every day.”

Harry is inclined to agree. Though, those dance moves are pretty great, she thinks. She nods along, watching them dance, enjoying the performance for what it is. She cheers at the end, along with everyone else in the room and the guys bow. She doesn’t recognise any of them, but then again she has nothing to do with the dance classes (and hasn’t since she epically failed at ballet when she was six years old). 

“Li’s in this,” Niall says, nudging Harry in the side. She has her phone out, ready to record the women’s performance. 

“Oh, is she? She never said,” Harry replies. Liam’s in Harry’s accounting class. They’ve been partnered up a few times, and Harry really likes her sense of humour. She’s very easy going, and doesn’t get annoyed when Harry gets distracted when they’re doing their projects.

“She says that Lou, their dance leader or captain, whatever, has been making them rehearse for _weeks_ ,” Zayn says. “I’m surprised you haven’t noticed how tired she’s been in your lectures.”

Harry bites her lip, abashed. She _had_ noticed how tired Liam was, but only the once. Because her future wife had walked by and Harry is a useless lesbian. It seemed that every time she and Liam had met up outside, Harry’s future wife would appear, surrounded by a group of friends (which made it much harder for Harry to point out exactly who she was to Liam (she is _very_ bad at descriptions)). And Harry would get distracted. She’s very, very weak, and very, very gay. And her future wife is gorgeous. And completely captivates Harry’s attention every single time she sees her around campus. So it’s not _really_ her fault that she’s so distracted.

Well, it _is_ her fault, but she’s not going to _admit_ that out loud.

And Liam is sweet, too. She indulges Harry’s ramblings about the beautiful girl and how she’s positive that they’re soul mates and how she would like to have her babies as soon as humanly possible. 

Since Liam is the sweetest, she even asks Harry questions, like what she’ll name their future children, and how many they’re going to have. Harry wants at least three. They would be the cutest babies ever, too. Which Liam doesn’t disagree with, despite her not knowing who the girl is (or what she looks like other than Harry’s description of ‘an absolute goddess’), either, but that’s okay. Harry knows that they’ll be the cutest babies ever, and that’s all that counts. And she has the names picked out, too. And it’s _probably_ excessive, but Liam never calls her out on it. Which is nice. 

Unlike Zayn and Niall, who tease her (though not all of the time because they’re her best friends, not monsters). They tease her mostly because every time she sees _her_ , Harry’s never able to properly point her out. Or describe how incredibly beautiful she is. And she’s always with a crowd, so pointing her out gets to be difficult. So Harry doesn’t _actually_ know her name, or what she’s even studying to become when she leaves uni, but Harry is okay with that. She likes a bit of mystery in her relationships.

And the girl is as mysterious as they come.

God Harry wishes that she could see her right now. It would absolutely make her day. She hasn’t seen her in a few days and she’s beginning to get a bit sad over it. She likes getting glimpses of the girl – it always makes her day infinitely better. 

“You should’ve worn your Britney tee,” Niall says, interrupting Harry’s thoughts about her future wife. Which, rude. But Niall is right in front of her, so Harry should probably pay attention. At least she and Zayn aren’t snogging like they usually do any time they’re together for more than five minutes. 

Harry looks down at her black skinny jeans, flats, and close fitting tank top. She likes this outfit. She likes to wear it when she has most of her afternoon free, just in case she sees the girl and they hit it off. She wants to look cute, but not like she’s _trying_ , when they finally speak for the first time. 

“If I had _known_ ,” Harry begins with a pout. “Then I _would_ have worn my Britney tee.”

“We did tell you about this earlier in the week,” Zayn says pointedly.

“Yes, but then my future wife walked by and I didn’t hear a word you said. You should know that by now,” she replies with a sniff.

Zayn snorts. “Have you even spoken to her yet?”

“No,” Harry says glumly. “But it’s meant to be, I _know_ it.”

“Shh, it’s starting!” Niall hisses excitedly. She presses record on her phone and points the camera towards the other side of the room.

Harry lifts up on her tiptoes. Someone groans behind her. She feels bad for half a second before her mouth drops open.

“It’s _her_!” she hisses, elbowing Zayn in the side. 

“Shh!”

Harry clamps her lips shut and watches the five women strut out into the dance floor. She spots Liam and barely resists the urge to wave at her. She looks fit in her dance clothes, Harry thinks for a second. 

But there, front and centre, is the woman that Harry wants to have a hundred babies with. She’s looking like every single one of Harry’s masturbatory fantasies come to life in loose grey joggers, and a tiny white crop top over a black sports bra. 

She actually struggles to catch her breath.

The music starts and Harry’s heart stops in her chest.

She watches, completely entranced, as the women _move_. They’re _far_ better dancers than the males, Harry notices. And she’s not even being biased. She may be a little biased, but she doesn’t care right now. 

The girl moves, thrusting her butt in Harry’s direction. Well, in their general direction, but Harry chooses to believe that it’s towards _her_ and her alone. She can feel her mouth going dry as she watches, unable to take her eyes off the incredibly fluid movements of the girls in front of her. Of one girl in particular.

When she brings her leg up over her head, Harry feels like she spontaneously combusts. Her mind produces so many dirty images that she can’t even keep up with them. She’s wet, has been since the second she laid eyes on her future wife, but holy shit, this is a whole new level. Harry clenches her muscles around nothing and both hopes that this goes faster, and also hopes that it never, ever ends. 

She can’t keep her eyes off the girl, the way her body moves in perfect time to the music. If Harry didn’t already worship the ground Britney walked on, then she absolutely would after this performance. This is going to be her wedding song. With the girl doing this very dance. And no one else is allowed to be there. And Harry wants to be wearing as little clothes as possible. While the girl grinds down on her.

Okay, Harry wants the girl to give her a lap dance. 

Oh what she would give for that. 

Actually, what she would give for there to be no one else in the room right now so that Harry could enjoy this all to herself.

She’s quite miffed at the fact that there are other people here, ogling her future wife like they are. It’s just not called for. 

All too soon, the music stops, and so does the dancing. Harry cheers the loudest out of everyone in the crowd. They all need to know that she is the most excited for this dance and she isn’t ashamed to show it. 

The five women break away from each other and each go to different groups of people. Harry stands on her tiptoes, straining to see who the girl she wants to marry goes to. 

“Liam!” Niall calls out excitedly, breaking Harry’s search for the girl. “You were incredible!”

“Thanks,” Liam says with a flushed, happy smile. “All of those hours were certainly worth it.”

“You were aces,” Zayn says, stepping closer to give her a hug. “I bet Lou is happy with herself.”

“Yeah, I think she is,” Liam agrees, turning around. Harry has no idea who this Lou person is, but she’s desperate to ask Liam who the girl leading the dance was.

“Who was the girl at the front?” Harry asks, taking her chance.

Liam glances to her. “Huh?”

“The girl with the grey joggers.”

“Oh! That’s Lou, well, Louis,” Liam replies. 

It’s the most beautiful name in the history of names, Harry thinks. 

“I want to have her babies,” Harry says. She slaps a hand over her mouth. She can’t believe she said that in front of her friends.

“What about that other girl you have a crush on?” Zayn asks, confusion clouding her face as she cocks her head at Harry.

“That _is_ her!” Harry exclaims, unable to curb her enthusiasm. 

Before any more questions can be asked, a tall, dark haired woman steps into the middle of the dance floor and claps her hands, hollering for their attention.

“Captains, if you will,” she says. The love of Harry’s life steps towards her, and the guy with the floppy fringe from the men’s team does so, too. “I just want to congratulate both teams for their outstanding efforts in today’s dance off.”

Harry tunes her out in favour of staring at Louis. Her cheeks are red from exertion, but she wears a happy smile. Harry wants to know what that smile is like up close.

Now that she knows Louis’ name, Harry can’t wait to use it in person. She can’t wait to call out “Louis!” and actually get a response. God she hopes that she gets a response. She has been so desperate to know this girl for so long, and it’s right within her grasp to know her. 

“…Without further ado,” the woman says. “The winners of today’s dance off is The Pussycats!”

Harry grins when Louis jumps up and down, elated. She claps loudly before sticking two fingers in her mouth and whistling loudly. _That_ seems to capture Louis’ attention as she looks towards where the noise comes from. She starts walking towards them and Harry’s eyes widen. 

Shit. She has no idea how to actually interact with this girl.

“Hey,” Louis says easily as she approaches them. “Congratulating Li, I see.” She slings her arm around Liam’s waist and kisses her cheek.

“You were both fucking brilliant,” Niall says enthusiastically. “Weren’t they, Harry?”

Harry feels like a deer caught in headlights. “Dancing… I like.” 

“That’s good,” Louis says easily, like Harry didn’t just fuck up her speaking. “You should dance with us sometime.”

Harry nods, not trusting herself to speak. 

Now that Louis is in front of her, actually _talking_ to her, Harry has no idea what to say. She has admired Louis from afar for so long that’s it’s odd to be within three feet of her. 

She’s pictured this moment for what feels like ever and now that it’s happening, Harry is fucking it up. And this is what Louis is going to remember, not how suave and charming Harry was, but that she mixed up the words in her sentence and is _staring_ at her like an idiot.

Harry could really use a do-over. 

She’s far more beautiful up close, though. Harry can see the little laugh lines near her eyes and it makes her want to trace them with her finger. And even though she’s been dancing and sweating, she smells _incredible_. 

Having her babies is still high on Harry’s priority list. When she can verbalise it, of course.

Her voice is beautiful, too, Harry thinks as she listens to her talking to Liam, Zayn and Niall. She spares a moment of annoyance for her friends, who clearly know Louis and could have introduced them a _long_ time ago. She could’ve been regularly smooching this goddess and she is _annoyed_.

And god she is _gorgeous_ , Harry thinks. She has a neck that’s made for kisses. And a body that clearly has a lot of stamina. Harry is kind of desperate to know what it would be like to–

“…Up for it, curly?”

Harry blinks. “Huh?”

Louis smiles at her. “We’re going to go get drinks to celebrate our win,” she says. “Would you like to come?”

“Yes, please,” Harry replies, nodding far too vigorously for such a simple question.

“Alright, curly, c’mon then,” Louis says. 

A group of people flock after her like she’s leading them to water in a desert. And honestly? Harry gets it.

There’s a nearby pub that they stop at, Niall greets the bartender like they’re an old friend, and with it being Niall, Harry wouldn’t be surprised if they _were_ friends. They spill out over a few tables, and somehow Harry ends up with her side pressed _very_ closely to Louis’. God she smells even better this close. Harry is going to fuck this up again, she knows it.

“So, curly, what’s your name?”

“Umm…” Christ. What is her name? She _knows_ that she knows it. This is a _simple_ question.

“Harry,” Niall says from across the table as she puts drinks down in front of them. “Why are you being so weird?”

“Erm,” Harry mutters. She can’t really answer that, either. She’s a bit nervous to be so close to someone she’s fancied from afar for so long. It’s a bit unnerving, if she’s honest.

“You’re cute,” Louis says. Harry gives her a lopsided grin.

Harry picks up her water and takes a sip. She has no idea how to talk to Louis. She doesn’t even know if they have anything in common. Apart from Louis dancing, and really, Harry is just a fan of watching.

“I’m still buzzing,” Louis says. She’s downed half her beer already and is nudging Harry out of the booth. “Want to dance?”

“Uh…” Harry’s eyes go wide. Dancing. With Louis. Holy shit. 

“Oh… Are you straight?”

“Oh _god no_ ,” Harry says emphatically. A full sentence. _Finally_.

Louis grins. “Want to dance?”

Harry nods, not trusting her voice. Louis offers her hand out to Harry and she takes it, hoping that it isn’t too sweaty. Louis leads her to the dance floor and surprises Harry by twirling her around. She giggles, unable to help herself.

“There we go,” Louis says softly. “You need to loosen up.”

Harry nods dumbly. The music is too quiet to really let loose to, but Harry is content to just dance like this with Louis. She has zero moves of her own, but Louis seems to enjoy whatever it is that she’s doing if the look on her face is anything to go by.

“C’mere,” Louis says, holding a hand out. Harry takes it and Louis pulls Harry flush against her.

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.

The woman of her dreams is holding her _close_ and Harry’s skin feels like it’s on fire. She has wanted this for so long. And now it’s actually happening, her brain is short circuiting on her. 

“Are you single?” Louis asks. “Zayn said something about you being married to someone in your head? Is that solid or can a girl try and get your number?”

Harry’s heart thuds in her chest. She opens her mouth to speak and nothing comes out. “Uh, y-you can have my number.”

“Aces,” Louis says. She twirls Harry again and they laugh when Harry almost stumbles over her feet trying to keep the twirl going.

“Steady there, curly.” Louis’ hands are warm on Harry’s waist. Her fingers press against her hips, gripping ever so slightly. Harry struggles to breathe. Louis is _touching_ her. Touching her! With her hands! And her body is right there. And Harry is touching it! _Holy shit_. 

“So… Who are you married to in your head? Is it just a celebrity, or do I have some real competition?”

Harry’s breath falters. “Uh,” she says. 

“Do I make you nervous?”

Harry nods. 

A strange look crosses Louis’ face. Harry bites her lip, unable to interpret the look. 

“I-it’s not a celebrity,” Harry eventually gets out. “It’s a girl I’ve fancied for a long time now but I had no idea if she was gay, or single, or anything.” Well, look at that, an entire sentence that had more than three words. Harry is _acing_ this interaction. 

Louis stills. “Oh.” She chews on her bottom lip. “Don’t worry about that number, then.” Or not.

Harry shakes her head, a little desperate now that Louis has loosened her hold on Harry’s body. “It was you,” she says boldly, relieved that she could get the words out in their correct order.

Louis blinks. “Oh. That’s good then.” 

Louis’ hands trace up Harry’s bare arms, making her skin break out in goosebumps. She feels hot to touch, like she’s in the middle of a fever dream. Louis’ body moves sensually against her own, guiding Harry’s along with her. 

Harry tightens her grip ever so slightly on Louis’ waist, just to feel that she’s real. That this is really happening and she isn’t having the best sex dream of her life.

But then Louis smiles at her, and Harry knows that her brain couldn’t produce _this_ level of detail. She’s never been this close to Louis before – only ever having seen her from far away. Close enough to know that she has beautiful blue eyes and an incredible smile, but not close enough that Harry was able to smell her like this. To touch her like this. 

And it’s _finally_ happening.

“There we go,” Louis says softly, her breath warm against Harry’s neck. She has no idea when they had managed to get even closer, but Louis’ body is flush against Harry’s own. Any closer and they would be inside of each other.

Harry’s brain falters at that.

Louis’ hands move down to Harry’s hips again, helping her sway them in time to the music. It’s easy to let Louis take control, to be touched by her in such an erotic way with their clothes still on. 

“You’re quite the dancer,” Louis says. Harry nods dumbly. It’s a lie. Of course it is. Harry is a shit dancer. She knows this. Louis _has_ to know this. She’s just being polite.

And gorgeous. She can’t help _that_ part, though, Harry thinks.

“Can I kiss you?” Louis asks. It stuns Harry. She knows that Louis has been flirting with her, she isn’t _that_ oblivious, but this is a whole new level for Harry. And she kind of really likes it.

“Yes, please,” Harry replies. Their gaze lock and Louis smiles brilliantly at her.

Her hands slide up Harry’s arms again, looping over her shoulders. She slips a hand into the back of Harry’s hair and guides her forwards. Their lips brush against each other lightly. 

Harry’s heart thuds in her chest. She’s positive that Louis can feel it where her body is pressed up against Harry’s, only their thin shirts separating them. And Christ, Harry’s just remembered that Louis is wearing a crop top.

Louis takes that moment to press her lips a little firmer to Harry’s. 

Holy shit. This is one billion times better than anything she could have imagined it to be.

Her hands are useless on Louis’ waist, just holding onto her hips a little too tightly. Her brain can’t function passed the fact that Louis’ lips are _on hers_ and that they’re _actually_ kissing each other.

This is _incredible_.

As often as Harry had admired Louis from afar (and secretly planned out their entire life together) never did she _actually think_ that she would be in a situation like this, let alone kissing Louis. 

Louis’ tongue slides against Harry’s own and she’s pretty sure that she ascends to a new level of being. Nothing in her life has _ever_ felt like this before. 

Eventually, Harry regains enough brain power to move her hands. She touches the bare skin of Louis’ back, feeling her hands pretty much covering the entire surface of available skin. This is what heaven must be like, she thinks. Nothing else on this earth could be as perfect or as indescribable as this. As just _touching_ Louis’ bare skin with her own hands.

It makes her want _more_.

A noise breaks them apart.

“Get it, Tommo!” Niall hollers from their tables. She looks far too cheerful for Harry’s liking. 

And that’s right. Harry had completely forgotten where they were and who they were with.

Shit. She is _never_ going to live this down. Not now they know that Louis is _the girl_ that Harry has been pining after for so long. 

But they don’t leave the dance floor, much to Harry’s relief. They stay right there, with Louis’ arm draped oh so casually over Harry’s shoulders, and their lips a hair’s breadth apart. Harry’s heart thuds in her chest and she’s absolutely positive that Louis can feel it. 

Louis’ lips brush against Harry’s again, just the barest of touches before she’s turning in Harry’s arms so her back is against Harry’s chest. And she’s moving to the beat of the music once more.

The song changes and Louis reaches for Harry’s hand, guiding it to her hips once more. She’s glad that Louis doesn’t mind that she isn’t really dancing, and just holding her as she dances. 

“You know,” Louis begins, her voice a little husky. It turns Harry on a ridiculous amount. “I’ve liked you for a while now.”

Harry stills. “What?” she utters.

Louis nods, pressing her arse right against Harry’s crotch. “Yeah,” she continues like having this conversation the way they are is absolutely normal. “You’re very cute.”

Harry blushes bright red. Despite the fact that she’s finally kissed this absolute goddess in her arms, and they’re dancing like they’re completely alone, she still blushes. 

“Before when I asked you what your name was,” Louis begins, “I already knew, I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

Oh. “R-really?”

Louis nods. “Really, curly,” she says, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. 

“I’m glad you did,” Harry says eventually. She feels light headed around Louis, and she is still struggling to get her words out, but she’s getting there. 

Louis gives her a dazzling smile and twirls Harry once more. She likes dancing with Louis like this, it’s fun. 

The song changes again and Louis reaches for Harry’s hands, holding them where they rest on Louis’ body, guiding Harry to dance with her. She moves, not as well as Louis does, but she tries her best. She’s so thankful that she is only wearing flats, because Louis is still wearing those boots, and those loose joggers, and looking every single part of one of Harry’s sex dreams come to life. And the way she presses her arse against Harry’s crotch lets Harry know that she _knows_ it, too.

Like she can hear Harry thinking, Louis turns her head and gives Harry the sultriest grin she’s ever seen. Her arm comes back, and she slides her hand into Harry’s hair, fingers curling ever so slightly. 

They keep dancing, pressed together so tightly. Harry has no clue what is going on outside of the little bubble they’re in and she doesn’t really care. She’s got the girl she’s been pining after in her arms, and she’s in absolute heaven. 

Louis turns in Harry’s arms again so they’re facing each other. She grabs Harry’s waist and forces her to move along to the beat of the music. Harry has never danced so much in her life. She sighs when Louis kisses her again, losing herself in the feeling of Louis’ soft lips against her own. 

She lets her hands roam across Louis’ back, touching every single inch of skin that she possibly can. Her hand goes higher until she’s at the hem of Louis’ crop top. She doesn’t expect Louis to guide her hand to her breast but she does and holy shit, Harry is going to have a heart attack just from this alone.

Louis smirks against Harry’s lips, breaking the kiss and pulling back enough to give Harry a lust-filled stare before kissing her hotly again. Her tongue is sure and confident against Harry’s own, whispering secrets to her that Harry didn’t know she was desperate to hear until now. 

She completely loses track of time, of meaning, of life. Nothing matters outside of the two of them pressed together in the middle of the dance floor. 

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a while now, curly,” Louis says softly. Her breath is warm against Harry’s cheek as she speaks.

“What?” Harry mumbles. She must have misheard her. Again. There’s no way that Louis could be saying these words to her. 

Louis nods. “Yeah,” she begins. “Every time I asked Zayn or Niall if you were single, they told me you were infatuated with someone else. It’s a bit intimidating to be honest.”

Harry blinks. She pulls back enough to properly look at Louis. “I had no idea.”

Louis shrugs. “I didn’t even know if you were into girls–” 

“I am,” Harry quickly interrupts. “I’m very, very lesbian.”

Louis chuckles. “Me too.”

“Is that why your dance team is called The Pussycats?”

When Louis throws her head back and laughs, Harry barely resists the urge to kiss up her neck. 

“Something like that, curly,” Louis says. She winds her arms around Harry’s shoulders again and presses her forehead against Harry’s own. “I wouldn’t mind getting to know yours, though.”

“My what?” Harry asks, confused.

“Your pussycat.”

“You mean Dusty?”

Louis’ grin is far too cheeky. “Has it been that long since you’ve had sex?”

“Oh! You mean? _Oh_ …” Harry promptly blushes. “Umm, yes, please you can know my… um… I don’t really like the word pussy, but yes, please.”

Louis gives her an endearing smile.

“I’ve wanted to have your babies since the moment I saw you.”

“Is that so?” Louis asks. She slides her hands up the back of Harry’s tank top, leaving scorching trails where their skin touches. “Well, why don’t we go get started on that right now, then?”

Harry falters. “Um, yes, sure?”

“We don’t have to, if you don’t want to?” Louis asks, stopping her touching altogether.

“No! I want to,” Harry says quickly. “It’s just… I’ve been kind of dating you in my head for a while now. It’s a bit… well, it’s a bit odd to have you here in my arms. You know?”

“I get it,” Louis replies. “We’ll go slow.”

Harry nods. “But we can still have sex, right?”

Louis grins. “We can still have sex.”

“Yay.”

Louis kisses her again, chastely this time. “C’mon, my flat’s close by.”

Harry practically skips off the dance floor. She ignores the wolf whistles from her friends, knowing that she’ll be expected to give them _full details_ of what happens between her and Louis tonight when she sees them next.

“Can I use your loo?” Harry asks when they enter Louis’ flat. She’s nervous. She knows that Louis knows this, too, but actually _being_ here is so very different. It’s _real_ for starters, and that. Well, it’s kind of scary.

“Sure,” Louis says. She gives easy directions on how to get to it, and Harry makes her way to the toilet. She takes a moment to just _breathe_ as she sits there, relieving herself. She can do this. She can do this.

She can’t do this.

She gets up, makes her way to the bathroom to wash her hands and stares at her reflection.

Who is she kidding? She can’t do this! She can’t have sex with Louis. They _just_ met and she wants… well, she wants a relationship with Louis, not just casual sex. She wants dates, romance, wooing, the whole lot. She wants it _all_. She just has no idea if Louis wants that, too.

“Alright?” Louis asks, meeting Harry in the small hallway as Harry exits the bathroom. Louis’ hand reaches out for Harry’s hand. It’s still damp. She didn’t know which towel to dry her hands on, so she just dried them on her trousers. 

Harry nods. “Yeah,” she says. All thoughts of worry and not being able to do this fly out of Harry’s mind the second Louis smiles at her. She could see that smile a billion times and never tire of it. 

Louis’ lips are on hers the second the door closes to Louis’ room. She pushes Harry up against the door, pinning her to the flat surface. Harry moans softly, enjoying the pressure of Louis’ body against her own. She kisses Louis back, chasing Louis’ tongue with her own. 

“C’mon,” Louis says, pulling back enough to nod her head at her bed. It’s unmade, the duvet half hanging off the bed, but it looks so inviting. 

Louis lifts one of her feet up to unzip her ankle boots, kicking them off. They land with a heavy thud, and it spurs Harry to do the same. She stands there, staring at Louis, who is a bit shorter than Harry with no shoes on, unable to do anything but just admire her. 

This is the woman she has been lusting after for the better part of Harry’s university education. This is the woman that Harry has pined for, longed for in all the sense of the word, and now she’s here, in her room, and has no idea what to do with herself.

“You’re a good dancer,” Harry says. She immediately feels awkward for saying that. But Louis smiles and her heart melts a little.

“Thank you,” Louis replies. “It’s kind of what I want to be when I leave uni.”

Harry nods vigorously. “You should. You’re brilliant.”

There’s crinkles by the corners of Louis’ eyes as she smiles at Harry. She closes the gap between them and kisses Harry softly. This kiss feels different to the other ones. Harry wonders if she’s making it up in her head. 

But then Louis’ hands come to her hips, resting there lightly. She doesn’t grip at them, or make a move to take Harry’s clothes off. Like she’s considering her next move.

“Want to move to the bed?” she asks softly. Harry nods.

They get comfortable, facing each other. Harry grins and leans over, kissing Louis again. She still can’t believe she’s doing this.

Louis shifts, hooking her leg around Harry’s, effectively bringing them closer together. She has lovely calves, Harry thinks as she strokes over the exposed skin. Harry is definitely enjoying kissing Louis like this. It’s better than all of her dreams come true. Louis is soft, warm, and _real_ , and it’s incredible. 

They’ve been kissing for a while when Louis pulls back. She pulls off her crop top and throws it over the edge of the bed. Harry’s mouth goes dry. Even though Louis is wearing a black sports bra, her boobs are _right there_ in Harry’s line of sight, and it’s _everything_. 

Hesitantly, she reaches up and cups Louis over her bra, making Louis grin briefly before she dips her head and kisses Harry again. Louis’ hands find their way underneath Harry’s tank top, just like they did back in the pub, and she edges it upwards until it’s bunched under Harry’s armpits. She pulls back enough to take it off before going right back to kissing Louis again.

“This is cute,” Louis says, her voice a little raspy. Harry did that. She made Louis’ voice do that. The thought makes her clit ache between her legs. 

Louis’ fingers trace over the edge of the little lacy bralette she’s wearing. It’s a soft pink colour and it’s perfect for Harry who has tiny boobs. She has a whole collection of them. Louis’ fingers edge closer to Harry’s nipple and she sucks in a sharp breath at the contact. Louis circles around her nipple with the tip of her finger before she’s shifting, moving to close her mouth over Harry’s nipple. Harry lets out a breathy sigh, arching into Louis’ touch. 

_Holy shit_.

Her nipple strains against the fabric, begging for more attention. This is the best thing Harry has ever experienced. 

“You’re very responsive,” Louis says as she pulls back. The fabric over Harry’s nipple is wet. She can still feel the phantom movements of Louis’ mouth over her. She wants to experience it again without the barrier there.

“Is that a good thing?” Harry asks shyly.

“Fuck yeah, it’s a great thing,” Louis replies easily. “I love it.”

Harry preens at the compliment. 

“So,” Louis says, her pink tongue darting out of her mouth to lick her lips. Lips that were just touching Harry. “What do you want to do?”

Harry blinks. “Um…?” she trails off, unsure.

“We said ‘slow’, yeah?” Louis says. “But before we get started, I need to ask – are you clean?”

Harry nods. “I washed my hands very thoroughly in your bathroom.”

Louis grins, eyes crinkling again. “That’s good to know, love,” she replies. “But are you clean sexually? I am, just so you know.”

“Umm.” Harry licks her lips. “I think I am?”

“Have you had a test done?”

She shakes her head. Louis moves away from her a little bit.

“When was the last time you had sex?”

“Oh. Um. I haven’t?”

Louis blinks at her a few times. “You’ve never had sex?”

Harry shakes her head. She feels like she’s doing this all wrong. Louis moves her leg off Harry’s and sits up, facing her. “I mean, I’ve half had sex?”

Louis’ lips quirk upwards. “What’s ‘half sex’, love?”

“Well, I fingered a girl before starting uni,” Harry replies easily, “but she didn’t touch me.”

Louis nods slowly. “Right, so you’ve never experienced a mutual orgasm with someone?”

“…No,” Harry says, biting down on her bottom lip. “Is that bad?”

“Of course not, love,” Louis says reassuringly. She picks up Harry’s hand and kisses her knuckles. “We’ll just go extra slow. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” Harry replies. “I do masturbate. And I use condoms every time I use my toys. And I wash them. And–”

“Alright, alright,” Louis interrupts. “I get it. You have sexual experience.”

Harry nods vigorously. 

“Just not with other people.”

Harry shakes her head twice. “I kind of haven’t wanted to,” she says slowly. “I had a crush on this amazing girl and she was the only one I wanted to touch.”

Louis blushes. Harry didn’t think that it was possible. Louis seems so confident, so suave, and so assure of herself. But there she is, blushing, and _Harry did that_. Pride surges in her chest.

“You…” Louis doesn’t finish what she’s saying. She tugs on Harry’s belt loops and effectively pulls her close enough until they’re kissing again. 

Harry doesn’t mind. She likes kissing Louis. She likes it a lot.

Louis slides her hand down between their bodies and pops the button on Harry’s jeans and _oh_ she likes _that_ a lot, too. She moves the zipper down and Harry wiggles, trying to get out of her trousers. Except, they’re rather tight. She almost head butts Louis in her attempts to get out of them, and sighs in frustration when they get caught on her ankles.

“Here,” Louis says. She shifts, tugging them down and falls off the end of the bed as they finally give way.

“Shit!” Harry exclaims. “Are you alright?”

Louis giggles. She throws Harry’s jeans out of her hands and stands, nodding. “Yeah, I am.” She pushes her joggers down and Harry’s mouth goes completely dry. She stares at Louis, clad in just her black knickers and sports bra. She has thighs for days and Harry just wants to get her mouth on them. 

Once they’re both on the bed again, Harry moves so she’s on top of Louis. Louis looks up at her with the most beautiful look anyone can have, and it makes Harry’s stomach swoop pleasantly. 

“Tell me if I do anything wrong,” Harry says throatily. Louis just nods. She kisses Louis again, briefer this time, before kissing her way down Louis’ neck. She can taste the salt on Louis’ skin from where she was sweating earlier. It’s an intoxicating taste. 

She kisses Louis’ neck, not brave enough to kiss any harder, but Louis doesn’t seem to mind if the way she tilts her head to the side to give Harry better access is anything to go by. Harry lets her lips linger on every patch of skin. She scrapes her teeth over the join of Louis’ neck and shoulder and receives a moan for her efforts. Harry repeats the action just to hear that noise again. 

Even though Harry has zero experience, she’s watched enough television, and read enough books to know that she must be doing _something_ right if Louis is making the noises she’s making. Those only come from pleasure, and they spur her on even more. She just wants to kiss every single inch of Louis right now, and she’s making it her mission to do so. She stops at Louis’ breasts and kisses right between them where they’re pressed against each other, giving her an ample cleavage. 

“Here,” Louis says, sitting up a little. She struggles for a moment, but then finally frees herself of the bra, adding it to the growing pile of clothes on the floor. 

If Harry’s mouth went dry at just seeing Louis’ thighs, it’s nothing compared to what happens when she sees Louis’ naked tits for the first time. She licks her lips, trying to get some moisture on them. 

“Alright?” Louis asks.

Harry nods, unable to stop staring at Louis’ boobs. They’re _perfect_. She has rosy nipples standing out against the tanned flesh of her skin. 

“Can I?” Harry asks, her gaze darting up to meet Louis’. Louis nods and Harry wastes no time, she dips her head and closes her mouth around the nipple closest to her. 

Louis arches into Harry’s mouth, her breathing heavy. Harry can feel the nub hardening under her tongue. She keeps working it until it’s straining underneath her actions. 

“Fuck,” Louis groans as Harry moves off it. She gives Louis a cheeky grin before moving to Louis’ other nipple. 

“C’mere,” Louis pants, her hands grabbing at Harry’s biceps. Harry moves off Louis’ nipple and shifts so she’s facing Louis once more. Louis kisses her hotly, her hands everywhere on Harry’s body. She reaches down, cupping Harry’s arse over her knickers, squeezing just this side of painful. Harry moans at the touch.

“For someone who’s never had sex, you’re awfully good at it,” Louis says, pushing Harry’s hair out of her face.

Harry gives her a crooked smile. “Thanks?”

“It’s a good thing, curly,” Louis replies. “I’m so wet right now.”

Harry’s pulse spikes, her heart thudding in her chest. “R-really?” she asks, a little in awe. She glances down to Louis’ knickers and then flicks her gaze back up to meet Louis’ eyes. 

“Really,” Louis replies. 

Harry grins, unable to help herself. “Can I touch you?”

“I’d love you to,” Louis says. “C’mere.”

Harry moves, dipping her head to kiss Louis again. Her hair falls forwards again and she sits back with a huff, quickly tying it up into a bun on the top of her head before moving back to kiss Louis again. She never wants to stop kissing Louis. This is better than anything she’s ever experienced before. And she never wants it to stop.

Harry’s mind goes completely blank when Louis takes her hand and guides it between her legs. It’s just over the top of her underwear, but Harry can still feel the warmth of Louis through the thin piece of fabric. 

“Fuck,” she whispers. Louis’ breath hitches as Harry’s fingers twitch against her. 

“Off, I need these off,” Louis says, wriggling out of her knickers. Harry is a deer caught in headlights. She just _stares_ , mouth dry at the sight of Louis’ naked vulva. “Alright, curly?”

Harry nods, unable to take her eyes off Louis. “Yep,” she says, licking her lips. 

“My eyes are up here, love,” Louis teases. She gently cups Harry’s face and turns her so they’re looking at each other. “Go as slow as you want. I’ll guide you.”

Harry nods dumbly. She relaxes as they kiss again, losing herself in the rapidly familiar feel of Louis’ lips against hers. She barely notices when Louis takes her hand again, guiding it between her legs. She stops when Louis uses Harry’s hands to part her folds. Her breath stutters, her mind whirring with the realisation that _this is actually happening_.

Louis sighs, her eyes closing as their fingers move together. It’s odd, feeling someone else’s labia and wetness against her fingers. Odd, but _incredible_. 

When Harry’s finger brushes against Louis’ clit, she grips onto Harry’s biceps, fingers digging in hard. Harry strokes over the sensitive nub slowly, trying to do to Louis what she herself likes. It seems to work if the breathy noises falling from Louis’ lips are any indication. 

It’s surreal being like this. Actually touching Louis when Harry had fantasised about it for so long. She’s glad that it’s better than anything her fantasies had produced. Louis moves against Harry, her hips rocking down into Harry’s hand, her breath warm against Harry’s skin. It’s intoxicating.

“Oh, fuck,” Louis moans. “Keep doing that.” Harry nods and dips her head to kiss Louis again, making sure she doesn’t lose momentum with her fingers. 

Louis breaks the kiss, but keeps her hand on the back of Harry’s neck. Their foreheads press together, Louis’ breath hot between them. She ruts down harder into Harry’s hand, her hand clenching a little too tightly where it’s clinging to Harry’s body. But Harry doesn’t care at all. Louis inhales sharply, and her mouth goes slack as she comes. 

Warm wetness coats Harry’s fingers. She can feel Louis twitching, both trying to keep her close and push her away. 

“Holy fuck,” Harry whispers, completely in awe. Louis relaxes against the bed, completely spent. Harry’s tongue darts out and licks her lips. She can’t tear her gaze away from where her hand is still between Louis’ legs. She lifts her hand, seeing her fingers looking deliciously wet. She lifts her hand to her mouth and experimentally licks the digits. 

“Fuck,” Louis says from underneath Harry. “That’s hot.”

Harry looks back at Louis, who is staring at her intently. “You taste good.”

Louis looks at her with darkened eyes, and before Harry knows it, she’s being pushed onto her back, Louis straddling her. She isn’t sure what to expect now, but Louis is kissing her and that’s a pretty great thing.

“You, my love,” Louis begins, trailing her lips down Harry’s jaw. “Are wearing far too many clothes.”

Harry grins. She’s still in her underwear, but she’s more than happy to finally take them off. She sits up, takes off her bralette, and then shimmies out of her knickers so she’s as naked as Louis is. 

“Fuck you’re gorgeous,” Louis says. She grabs at Harry’s thighs, squeezing the flesh. She parts Harry’s legs so she’s between them and leans over her. And _oh_. Harry could get used to this.

“Hi,” Harry says stupidly as Louis leans down, kissing her briefly on the lips before pulling back. “So… um. What now?”

“Now,” Louis says, sitting back enough to trail her hand down Harry’s sternum. She stops at Harry’s breasts and cups one in her hand, circling the nipple with her thumb. God, it feels good. “Now I’m going to eat you out.”

Harry is instantly wetter. 

“Yes, please,” she says. 

Louis gives her a devastating grin. “It’s a shame that you’ve missed out on this for so long,” she begins, her index finger circling Harry’s nipple now. “Because oral sex is _amazing_ , but I’m going to slowly eat you out until you come.”

“Fuck,” Harry whimpers. They haven’t even started yet and she’s already on the edge. “Um, yes, please.”

Louis grins. “Just tell me if I do anything wrong, alright?”

Harry nods vigorously. Louis leans over her and kisses her again, their bodies flush against each other. She can feel the shape of Louis’ breasts pressing against her own, can feel every single inch of Louis as their bodies move together. This is insane how good it is, and they’ve barely even started.

The moment Louis’ lips touch Harry’s neck, she knows she’s done for. She can’t breathe that’s how good it is. Louis’ teeth scrape against her skin, nipping sharply and then she smooths over it with her tongue. Harry hopes that she’s giving her a love bite. She’s always wanted one, and knowing that it was Louis who gave it to her makes it infinitely better. 

Too soon for Harry’s liking, Louis is moving away from her neck. She lets out a whine and Louis just smiles at her.

“Patience,” she says softly. She closes her lips around Harry’s nipple, the one she wasn’t playing with earlier. She tugs on it with her teeth, and Harry’s body automatically arches into her touch.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Harry hisses. She moves both of her hands, one to the back of Louis’ head, the other to play with her free nipple, rolling it between her fingers until it’s just as hard as the one in Louis’ mouth. The action makes her drip with anticipation. It’s going to be over before Louis even gets to touch her, Harry thinks. 

Before Harry can get too used to Louis teasing her nipple, she’s shifting down Harry’s body, leaving open mouthed kisses over Harry’s stomach, until she’s settling herself between Harry’s legs. Her nose presses against Harry’s pubic mound. Harry throbs with the motion.

Louis’ breath puffs over Harry’s damp skin, making her tingle with anticipation. 

She makes the mistake (or the best decision ever) to glance down at Louis just as Louis’ tongue leaves her mouth and licks a fat stripe up Harry’s pussy. 

Her entire body reacts to it. She pushes down into Louis’ mouth, her back arches, and her head tips back. 

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.

Louis’ hands come to push Harry back down on the bed. “Can’t keep going if you’re off the bed, love,” she says, sounding amused. She lays an arm across Harry’s hips and then dips her head, parting Harry’s folds with her tongue before settling back in to eat Harry out like it’s the best damn ice cream she’s ever had.

Harry struggles to breathe through the whole thing. Every time she thinks she can take a breath, Louis does something different, hardening her tongue so it’s able to flick over Harry’s clit better, sliding her tongue into Harry’s entrance – it’s all too much and not enough at the same time. 

“Gonna come,” she warns Louis a few moments later. She’s been on the edge for hours already, has been since watching Louis dance, and god that feels like a lifetime ago. 

At Harry’s words, Louis presses in closer. Her tongue hardens and she flicks over Harry’s clit faster than Harry expects. In the middle of taking a breath, Harry’s orgasm hits her. She fists a hand in Louis’ hair, keeping her right where she is. Her thighs shake, her heels dig into the bed with the force of it. She collapses against the bed, breathing hard, sweat clinging to her body, and her thighs still trembling on either side of Louis’ head. She twitches with oversensitivity, and Louis seems to understand it, as she moves back. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand before giving Harry’s clit one last kiss. 

“Fuck,” Harry moans, throwing an arm over her face. 

She’s still struggling to breathe properly.

“Deep breaths, Harry,” Louis says. Her hand is resting on Harry’s stomach, and Harry nods, automatically following Louis’ instructions. She takes a deep breath, feeling her lungs expand. She lets it out slower, trying to slow her heart rate down a little.

“Wow,” Harry says after a few long moments. She turns to face Louis and grins. “ _Wow_.”

Louis smiles back at her. “That was pretty mind-blowing.”

“I’ll say,” Harry agrees. She rolls onto her side to face Louis properly. 

Louis strokes her hand across Harry’s arm, down her spine, and stops to rest at Harry’s lower back. Her thumb strokes in soothing motions, making Harry sleepy.

“I’d like to do this again,” Harry admits. She didn’t mean to say that, but she’s feeling very dopey from her incredible orgasm. 

“Me too,” Louis says. Her voice is softer now. “I’d like to take you out on a date, too.”

Harry nods. “Yes, please,” she agrees, unable to stop from grinning.

“Gotta see if I live up to the version of me in your head,” Louis says. She moves her hand to Harry’s hip, fingers pressing in ever so slightly.

“You’ve already surpassed it,” Harry replies.

“Really?”

Harry nods. “Mmmhmm,” she mumbles, shuffling closer so she’s tucked under Louis’ chin. Louis shifts, pulling the duvet up over them. Louis kisses Harry’s forehead before looking Harry right in the eyes. “I’d rather this you over the one in my head anyway. She’s real.”

Louis smiles softly, her eyes crinkling in the corners. “I like the real you, too.” Louis’ lips press against Harry’s own in a warm, sleepy kiss. Harry sighs into it, wrapping herself completely around Louis. 

This version is absolutely better than anything she could’ve dreamt up.

**Author's Note:**

> Please be kind.
> 
> rebloggable post on my [tumblr](http://star55.tumblr.com/post/181992484611)


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